


Robes, Wand, and Rat

by Caedmaeg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:51:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7758556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmaeg/pseuds/Caedmaeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A history of the equipment Ron inherited from his brothers upon starting at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Robes, Wand, and Rat

Bill had read enough to know that people in books buy their clothing and equipment and everything brand new, not from the jumbled area full of marked-down or used items in the back of the shops.  True, books weren't always true to life, but either way it was telling that his parents borrowed more books than they bought.  And even as the oldest child, he got his share of hand-me-downs from earlier generations. 

So the windfall of his 11th birthday would stay with him and his family for as long as they could make it last.

On the last Sunday of November, 1981, his aunts, uncles, and all his cousins came to the Burrow.   It was ostensibly a celebration of Bill's birthday, with a bit of extra dessert to recognize that his third cousin Martin had been made a Prefect.  But everyone knew they would never have had such a party last year, when Dark Marks still filled the air over empty houses.  Now, after a month of clear night skies, they all relaxed further.  There were some fireworks, a pick-up game of Quidditch in the chilly autumn air, and more laughter over presents than they'd managed in years.  With great ceremony, Great-Aunt Mafalda presented Martin with a coming-of-age watch two years early, and gave Bill a small box full of Galleons.  It was, she said, a sort of memorial to her husband, as Bill was his namesake.  She thought Bill might grow up to be like him.  No one else hoped he would, but they all smiled at the gift and came up with increasingly ridiculous ways to spend it.  

But Hogwarts shone like a beacon in Bill's head.  He knew he wouldn't spend a single Galleon until the following summer, when the owl brought a letter just for him.

The months trickled by, and he pondered how best to use his money.  What would put his best foot forward at Hogwarts?  He could get by with a school owl for post.  Books could be used to start with - they'd only get beat up anyway, and sometimes the writing in the margins could be a boon.  Cauldrons too, if you avoided obvious discoloration or other problems.  Quills were cheap.  His wand ought to be new, if it could be helped. Parchment, ink, and ingredients for student-level potions shouldn't be  _too_ bad, and...well.  First-years weren't allowed a broom; everyone knew that.  

So robes it would be.

Madame Malkin made three sets.  They were handsome and heavy, with shining clasps and subtle piping, as well as several extra inches hidden at the hem.  His mother could let them out as he grew, so they'd last him for years.  In the meantime, the extra fabric gave the robes more heft so that they swished dramatically.  Bill automatically stood up straight when he put them on.

 

Five years later, he'd shot up enough that even the extra fabric left several inches of shin visible.  His mum tracked down some longer robes for him, re-hemming his for Percy to wear; five years after  _that_ , the pattern repeated with Percy and Ron.

Which was just as well, really.  Bill had mostly stopped growing at that point, but he'd probably need different robes for his upcoming trip to Egypt.  

~~~

The very thought of a new wand sat curiously in Charlie's mind.  He didn't quite want it, didn't _want_ to go looking at a new one, but he understood the necessity.

In short: he needed something sturdier. Dragon flame could still burn most any wood, given enough exposure, but verawood, ironwood, and African blackwood were venerable woods with greater resistance to such heat.  Ollivander had eyed him narrowly when he explained what he wanted, as it was atypical to get a new wand without the first one having broken.   But apparently certain wizards, Ollivander among them, maintained an uncanny level of acumen or clairvoyance: the wandmaker pulled a narrow box from a dark corner of a very low shelf, revealing a 11-and-a-half-inch bull-oak wand with a dragon heartstring core.  Nearly 4 times harder than his first wand, Ollivander said ruefully, which is why it cost 11 galleons.

It felt peculiar to leave behind his faithful old ash wand with its unicorn hair, like a bit of lodestone always tugging at his heart across the miles.

Or perhaps he was getting ridiculously sentimental at the thought of living over a thousand miles away from almost everyone he knew.

Either way, leaving it with Ron was a worthwhile thing to do. Ron would take reasonably good care of it, and his mother was glad to be spared that expense for the time being.

He’d need a new holster, though. This new wand was half an inch shorter than his first wand.

~~~

It wasn't always fun being the middle child.  At first Percy was just the baby brother, young enough that Bill and Charlie bonded together and he couldn’t ever catch up.  And then he was also the big brother, when the twins came along.  They were even  _more_ bonded, and disinclined to include him if they could help it.  He tried imitating Bill and Charlie, or following them as they walked and ran and played.  But since they were 11 and 8, and he was only 5, it didn't work very well.  He would still be picking his way through the garden when they reached the creek at the bottom of the hill.

Which is how, one lonesome afternoon, Percy came upon his pet rat.

Obviously it wasn't a pet at first.  It was a frantic little creature with a filthy pelt and tail dangling in the dust.  Percy offered it (him? Percy wasn’t sure, but the rat looked like a him, somehow) a bit of corned beef, which the rat ate greedily as Percy examined him. He had obviously gotten in fights - a toe was missing from his front paw, his fur was bedraggled, and his left ear was bleeding.

“Poor thing,” Percy murmured, stroking the rat’s head, avoiding his ears. “I wonder if Mum can patch you up.”

His mother was not necessarily pleased to have a rat in the house, but the fact that You-Know-Who had apparently met his match a few weeks back meant that she was more inclined toward leniency than she had been in ages.  Her best healing spells stopped the bleeding, but didn’t heal the rat immediately. For weeks the side of his head was one big scab, and Percy christened him in recognition of this beginning.

From then on, Percy had a friend.  Even if Bill and Charlie wanted to walk down to the village, Scabbers would sit quietly with Percy as he read his books.  When Fred and George were scheming to steal the Floo Powder and make their way to Knockturn Alley, Scabbers was dozing next to Percy's inkpot on his desk.  After months of coaxing and plenty of treats, Scabbers learned to perch on Percy's shoulder, and almost looked like he was peering down at  _The Daily Prophet_ as Percy read it.  Over the years, they went everywhere together, and Scabbers seemed to listen when Percy wanted to think out loud about school, his studies, the ministry, the statute of secrecy, Penelope Clearwater…

He wasn't a sleek or pretty rat - he’d always be missing those phalanges on his front paw, the Magical Menagerie shopkeeper had told him - but he did prefer Percy to anyone else, which was more than could be said for anyone Percy had ever met.  Scabbers was also surprisingly hardy for a rat, able to sit on Percy's shoulder year after year.  Even in class, if Percy let him; he was always up for some fresh air.

Well, not _always_. Scabbers invariably cowered in Percy’s bag during Potions and Transfiguration for some reason, though Percy thought this just showed extremely good sense: a rat sitting about during class like that could be transfigured into a racquetball, or worse, especially where Snape was concerned.

  
The summer Percy got his letter congratulating him on being chosen as Gryffindor Prefect shifted a lot of things. It was a busy time with lots of excitement as they prepared for Charlie to go to Romania and for every younger boy to go to Hogwarts, the twins speculating occasionally on Harry Potter (“He’s supposed to be eleven this year, isn’t he? What house d’you reckon he’ll be in? What if he shared a dorm with Ickle Ronniekins?” “Be a turn-up, wouldn’t it”).

Percy got longer robes handed down from Bill, and received Hermes as a new gift.  The owl would come in useful for ordering O.W.L. guides, contacting potential connections for a future M.O.M. position, and writing to Penelope. He was sleek, and swift, and would hopefully stay with Percy for years.

Prefect badge shining on his chest, Percy was quite pleased. Scabbers was less so, understandably leery of sharing a room with a natural predator.  In a bit of problem-solving magnanimity, Percy presented Scabbers to Ron, assuring him that the rat was a very suitable and faithful companion when he was treated well.

Ron wasn’t thrilled, and Scabbers wasn’t excited either. But he didn’t run away, and Ron seemed disinclined to get rid of his new pet, even if Scabbers were a hand-me-down.

And if Scabbers continued to avoid Snape and McGonagall, but perked up whenever anyone mentioned You-Know-Who or Harry’s parents, and tried to fake his death to avoid Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, well.

Who knows why?  He was only ever Percy’s old rat.


End file.
